


Parameters

by romanticalgirl



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://miladygrey.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://miladygrey.livejournal.com/"></a><b>miladygrey</b></p><p>Originally posted 3-18-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	Parameters

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://miladygrey.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://miladygrey.livejournal.com/)**miladygrey**
> 
> Originally posted 3-18-07

It’s well past midnight, and the lab and living quarters are silent. Ben is out with Alicia – not without informing Reed not to wait up and, no, despite what Sue says, getting so caught up in an experiment that he forgets to sleep isn’t _quite_ the same thing. Sue is safely tucked away at her parents’ house, discussing things like lace and veils and favors and other words that now instill pure, unadulterated fear in his heart.

And Johnny…well, it’s Friday night, long before the bars close and while there are still women willing to say, “Yes, please.”

So Reed’s alone.

He goes into his bedroom – the one he _occasionally_ shares with Sue – and undresses, watching himself carefully for any sign of weakness, of loss of control. He stops at his boxer briefs and glances at the monitor, carefully checking the security cameras one last time before slipping the cotton shorts off.

He forces himself to close his eyes, to think of the most disgusting, vile thing he can. Last week when the sewer had exploded and Johnny had set fire to everything until Reed thought he’d never manage to get the stench of scorched feces out of his nostrils.

Satisfied with the image, he opens his eyes and looks at himself in the mirror. He focuses on his control, his power, keeping his gaze on his reflection, on his distinct lack of arousal.

And then it starts to grow.

It reaches its regular length and girth and Reed stops, a slight smile on his parted lips, his breathing slightly increased. He should be doing this in the lab, he knows, monitoring heart rate and pulse, blood pressure and respiration, seminal vesicle expansion or dilatation. But this time, this first time, it has to be in private.

His penis gives a quick jerk at the potential of this being the first endeavor of many, focusing his mind back on his task. He watches again as he increases length – twice as long and far too skinny – and then just girth – elephantitis and uncomfortable – and then both, slow and steady until the tip brushes the mirror, the sudden jolt of cold bringing him back to himself.

The weight of it causes it to hang strangely, and he debates continuing, testing his boundaries. He settles on a compromise and lay back on the bed, smoothing the length from the base to the tip where it lays against his sternum.

Reed closes his eyes, stroking the flesh. It’s slightly soft, much like when it’s normal and not aroused, the length of it uniformly sensitive, save the tip. He revels in the feel of it, the strangeness of the length, feeling himself harden beneath his touch. The shape changes with his arousal and he tightens his grip, feeling the skin stretch in the instant before he feels the sleek tip bump his chin.

He stops, his breath coming hard and fast. Suddenly, his mind is devoid of fact and figures, all his carefully prepared calculations coming down to this moment to this one thing: Two inches. 5.08 centimeters. An inestimably small amount of space, the barest hint of effort to stretch.

“Well, well. You _are_ human.”

Reed’s body jerks, power pulsing through him. His hand shoots out, colliding with the chest of the person in the doorway while his penis contracts, sliding back to normal like an automatic measuring tape.

“I mean, I had my doubts. Still do, given as it’s been over six months since we’ve had these powers and I’ll bet good money this is the first time you’ve tried _anything_.”

“Johnny.”

Johnny pushes Reed’s hand aside and walks into the room. There’s something about his stride that lets Reed know Johnny’s drunk, and he knows he should move, but mortification keeps him still, sprawled on the bed like…well, he’s not quite got a corollary for the situation.

“I mean, I know you’re engaged to my sister and all that, but I also _know_ my sister, and I’m surprised. I mean, if I were in your shoes, or lack thereof, I’d have been taking advantage of _all_ my powers.”

“All my…”

“Think about it, man. You’ve got every man’s dream. Make your dick long enough to suck yourself off. Make your tongue long enough to lick anything you want. Hell, you could make your dick long enough that you could _fuck_ yourself.”

“I…”

“Hey.” Johnny holds up both hands in surrender, stemming Reed’s response. “I’m not saying you _should_ or even want to. I’m just saying that you said we should all explore _all_ the aspects of our power.”

“I…”

“You let me go supernova, man.” Johnny kneels at the end of the bed and then leans forward, hands planted on either side of Reed’s body, thumbs brushing Reed’s thighs. “Seems like it’s not right to not test your own abilities.”

“Somehow I don’t think knowing I can…do things to myself falls under the critical knowledge of dealing with our powers.” He swallows, keeping his eyes on Johnny’s and trying hard to focus on something other than the slow stroke of Johnny’s thumbs.

“Need to know our boundaries, Reed.” Johnny leans in further, his eyes dropping to Reed’s lips. “What we can and can’t do.”

“Johnny…”

“Would you have done it, Reed? If I hadn’t walked in? Let it slide into your mouth? Tasted yourself?”

Reed felt his body flush, internal temperature rising as the denim of Johnny’s jeans brushed against his inner thighs, the rough rasp of fabric against Reed’s body sending shivers of sensation through him, hardening the flesh between them. “I…”

“Experimented, Reed?”

“Johnny…”

“You like to experiment, right?” Johnny’s hand snakes between them, wrapping around Reed’s penis easily, tugging lightly as he strokes it. “It’s what you do. Have to have all the facts, right?”

“Right, but I…”

“Can’t make an informed decision without them.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I…”

Johnny pulls back, eyes hot as they slide down Reed’s chest and stomach, matching the slow, taunting path of his hands as they skirt down Reed’s thighs and calves. Reed’s body jerks again, the kind of heat the sings beneath Johnny’s skin flooding through him. Johnny laughs, low and deep and tugs his shirt off, tossing it to the side before sliding his hands over his stomach, watching Reed watch him as he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down his thighs, along with his formfitting boxer-briefs.

“Hate to see you making assumptions, Reed. Bad conclusions on incomplete and inconclusive data.” Johnny moves off the bed and sheds his clothes, crawling up Reed’s body and straddling him, knees pressed to the outside of Reed’s thighs, his weight carefully balanced above Reed, heat pooling in the space between them. “Is that the reputation you want, Reed? Is that the kind of scientist you are?”

“It’s….” Johnny lowers himself slowly, displacing the air with flesh, settling his body on Reed’s, the heat of his skin infusing into Reed’s, heating his blood. “Johnny…”

Johnny leans forward, his breath as hot as his skin. “Want to be your test subject. Your focus group. Give me everything you’ve got, Reed.”

“I…” Reed stops, his brain short circuiting as Johnny’s hand closes around him again, stroking him, using a power of his own to lengthen Reed’s flesh, to expand the parameters of his arousal. “J-Johnny…”

Reed groans and shudders, his body betraying him in every manner as Johnny drops a cool packet on Reed’s chest. He recognizes it and shudders again, his breath shifting again despite his mental reminders to keep his breathing on an even keel, the soft voice in the back of his mind, cataloguing every response for future reference, for posterity.

 _Not that any of this is_ ever _going into a medical journal._

“Fill me up, Reed. Use your power and fill me up.”

Reed acts on instinct, his body responding in ways he’s not quite sure he understands, not sure he can understand them without serious calculation and dissection, examination and equation, but he doesn’t have any of that at this moment, just his arm stretching, his hand fumbling along the dresser to find something to act as lubricant as Johnny opens the condom packet and slides it along Reed’s length.

“Have to be careful,” Johnny laughs, low and deep and Reed can practically hear the whiskey on his breath. “Extra-large wasn’t designed with your power in mind.”

Reed drops the lotion onto the bed, his hands disobeying every order as though there’s some sort of dorsal nerve block keeping the signals from making it from his brain to his appendages. Johnny doesn’t miss a moment, gathering the lotion and pouring it into his hand, stroking it along the condom, Johnny’s inherent heat warming it before it even touches his skin.

Empty of the lotion, his hands slide back to normal, move to stroke along Johnny’s thighs. Reed closes his eyes to think, to _try_ to think, unable to work on any higher level and sensation as his R-brain takes over, his fingers tightening on Johnny’s thigh as they grow taut, as he moves up and then slowly slides down onto Reed.

Reed catalogues the sensations as they come, unable to process beyond that. Heat and tight and deep in equal measure, pressure surrounding him as Johnny’s knees press against his thighs, Johnny’s body closes around him. And then there’s movement, building slowly, tension and release, again and again as Johnny’s body slides along the length of him, tightening and relaxing, taking him deep.

Reed’s hands shake as his hips react, rising up to meet Johnny’s downward thrusts. The hours they’ve spent practicing and honing their skills seem to come into play, their movements in sync. Their breathing cycles together, chests rising and falling in unison as everything breaks down from calm and measured to gasps and pants. Johnny’s fingers rake down Reed’s chest, feeling singeing his skin. Reed groans, the sound echoed by Johnny as his touch leaves Reed. Reed opens his eyes, unaware they’d closed, and watches as Johnny begins to stroke himself, flames dancing along his wrist as his hand moves quickly, matching the steady, hard rhythm of their bodies.

He measures the time in seconds, heartbeats, the matching pulse at the base of Johnny’s neck until he loses track as Johnny suddenly tightens around him, heat searing along his skin as Johnny’s body contracts with his orgasm, hot and wet on Reed’s stomach.

Reed feels his own body reacting, and, for a timeless moment, his power is rendered null and void as his body constricts, elasticity gone for an instant until it comes back with full force with his orgasm, his body expanding, filling Johnny until his low moan brings Reed back to his senses, the two of them tangled together in a sweaty mass.

Johnny eases off of him, sprawling out across the remaining portion of the mattress. “Well?”

“Well?” Reed echoes.

“Aren’t you going to grab one of your notebooks and input data or something?” He turns over on his side, looking at Reed as he runs his finger down Reed’s abdomen. “Was an experiment, right?”

“An experiment.” Reed nods and reaches for one of the notebooks on his nightstand, fumbling through it to find a page not already covered with his precise writing. “Exactly. Data. Impressions. Right. An experiment. A trial.”

“The first of many trials, right?” Johnny smiles and lets his finger slide lower, drawing a line along the base of Reed’s shaft. “Need sufficient data. This could have just been a fluke.”

“Right. A series of trials.” He nods and swallows hard and looks at Johnny, matching Johnny’s dangerous smile with a questioning one of his own. “With the proper test subject.”

Johnny laughs and settles back on the bed, his eyes closed. “I tell you, Richards. The things I do for science.”  



End file.
